Endless Impossibilities
by blue-glass-boat
Summary: "Break Jace Herondale's heart. I don't care how you do it, but it needs to end with him shattered." Clary thinks she has approximately... no chance of getting him to notice her like that, let alone break his heart. If the situation were different, she would be kind of flattered by Sebastian's faith in her. And any other situation would be easier than this. AH, AU
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! This is my new story (obviously), which is All Human. I've been thinking about this for a while, so I finally decided to just get on with it. Since my computer likes to be American, this is in American English. But I'm actually Aussie, so just point out if I've got any spelling errors or otherwise!**

**Hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think- always open to constructive criticism. **

Clary Fray added a few more lines to her sketch, the pen scratching quietly across the page. Wishing for her art paper, she tried to ignore the ugly sound it made when she dragged it across the page. Although she couldn't decide which was worse: that, or her teacher's annoyingly nasal voice.

She wondered if she'd been severely ill while picking subjects for junior year. Gazing down at her rather impressive rendering of the girl sitting in front of her, she yawned.

Clary glanced around in boredom, noting the expressions varied from desperate to near catatonic. As she returned her eyes her sketch, she caught the unwavering gaze of Sebastian Verlac. She wrenched her eyes away hurriedly, but she couldn't focus. Why was he watching her?

It was probably nothing, she decided. Maybe he was looking at something past her- or just zoning out, like the rest of the group.

But as the bell rang and the classroom filled with the sounds of scraping chairs and chattering students, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that his gaze was still burning into her.

* * *

><p>"Clary!" A familiar voice called. She grinned and turned, watching Isabelle Lightwood dart through the crowd surging to their next class. Pushing past a couple whispering against a locker door, she rolled her eyes at Clary. Isabelle couldn't stand school- filled with fake laughter and snarky comments, she said. Which was not to say she didn't enjoy the occasional party or fling.<p>

"_Finally_." Sighing, she flipped her black hair over one shoulder, drawing a few glances. Effortlessly beautiful, Clary had no idea why Isabelle had picked her out on the first day of middle school, all those years ago. She'd been trying to work the new combination to her locker when the dark-eyed girl marched over. "What class do you have first?"

And so began their friendship.

"…it'll be Saturday night. Come over at eight, okay?"

"Ah, sure." Obviously another party they were going to. She guessed she'd just skulk around while Isabelle flitted around on the dance floor, glittering and radiant, as usual.

Clary glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, the hands counting down the seconds until they would be late. "We've got English."

"Pity." She sighed. "At least we've got this one together."

Knowing their English teacher was likely to be late, they ambled through the halls. Well, Clary ambled. Isabelle sauntered. They finally reached the classroom as the harsh ringing of the bell pervaded the corridors.

"I'd forgotten we also have this class with my idiot brother."

Clary hadn't.

Jace Herondale was... many things. Never seen without a girl was probably at the top of the list. Closely followed by sarcastic. He was currently lounging on a desk with a poisonous blonde at his side and a small crowd sitting around him. Clary shook in her head in disgust as one of girls inched a little closer.

Isabelle's hand pulled at her arm, forcefully pulling her away from the scene that her adopted brother had made. "Let's go, Clary."

They made their way to the usual seats, far away from Jace. She forced herself to unpack her books and pull out some pens rather than watching him and his little fanclub. "He has a good heart, you know." Isabelle said softly. "He just- the accident-"

"I get it." Clary cut her off. And she really did. She'd seen firsthand Jace's vulnerability. "I won't pretend I like the way he acts, but I understand his reasons."

"This is why we're friends." She smiled, her usual conviction coming through, if slightly dulled.

"How sweet. Maybe you can get two halves of a heart on a necklace next."

"Don't be stupid, Jace." Clary said sweetly, triumphantly registering the slightest tremor that rippled through his indecipherable expression. Still in the sugary voice, she continued. "We've already got those."

He turned back to Isabelle, slightly miffed. "I heard we're hosting a party."

_Ah. _That was what she'd missed in the corridor.

"Yeah, mom and dad are going out and taking Max. I figured they wouldn't care, as long as the cops don't get called." She rolled her eyes. "You know how they are. Parents."

Jace cleared his throat. "Yeah. Well. Better than none." His eyes flicked to Clary, and she flinched slightly at the naked pain in them.

Then they shuttered, leaving the inscrutable gold they usually were. She blinked. The transformation was so quick, out so out of sync with his usual façade, that she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't _felt _the tangible hurt in them.

"Got to run, I'm meeting Simon at his locker. Come find us in the caf." Isabelle's fading call stayed with her as she packed up her bag with a small laugh. Those two were so obvious, yet so very blind. They both insisted that there was 'absolutely no way' the other could like them.

She glanced around, noting that there was only one other person in the classroom. And, of course, it was Jace.

Damn him. She couldn't help but feel bad for him. Keeping his parents' last name to honour their memory, adopted by the Lightwoods at ten. She could still hear the screams echoing in her memory as the car went skidding−

"Like what you see?"

But sometimes he made it hard to remember that he was the same boy. Still vulnerable under the cocky defenses.

Clary sighed. "Will it make a difference whether I reply or not?"

He smirked. "No. I already know you're just hiding your love for me under harsh words."

She sighed again. "Yes, Jace, that's _exactly _what I'm doing. How did you guess?" Her voiced oozed sarcasm, almost palpable in the silent classroom.

"Lucky, I suppose." He shrugged, crossing the room in a few long strides and reaching down to cup her chin and tilt it up.

Despite herself, she almost melted into his touch. His fingers were long and steady, five points of warmth against her skin.

It was all an act. Just another girl, just another casual motion. She jerked back, ripping her face out of his reach. "Nice try, Jace." She laughed and it sounded fake to her ears. "Maybe I'll see you later. But," she added venomously, "I kind of hope not."

_Payback. _He shouldn't have jerked her around like that. The almost-shocked look on his face should have been satisfying.

It wasn't.

* * *

><p>Clary sighed, pulling books out of her locker. English, <em>thump. <em>History, _thump. _The sound bounced off the walls of the deserted corridor.

"Taking your anger out on your books? How disappointing. There are much more… productive ways to unleash it."

Groaning, she turned to face the black pits that were the eyes of Sebastian. "Go away, Sebastian. I don't need your crap right now." She slammed her locker door shut with a satisfying clang. "Or any time, for that matter."

"I guess I'd better back away. Looks like you're living up to your hair with your fire today." His mocking tone got under her skin and buried itself in her veins, lighting a spark of frustration.

She glanced at him briefly, letting her anger show clearly across her face. "And from the looks of _your _hair, you've already been burnt by it." He flicked his dark hair out of the way. He scowled, clearly annoyed. Maybe he'd actually had reason for coming over here, but she didn't particularly care at the moment. The encounter with Jace had left her off balance, emotions broiling inside of her in one angry lump.

"If you don't have anything useful to say, I'll be going." Clary hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, the tough strap cutting into her shoulder painfully.

"I think you'll want to hear this." The ominous words were enough to freeze her in her place, and coupled with the poisonous tone of Sebastian's voice… ghostly fingers traced their way up and down her spine. She tried to mask her dread with annoyance. "You'll have to enlighten me, then." She mocked.

He stepped closer to her. "You might remember the day, a few months ago, that we went white water rafting?" She scowled, not understanding the sudden switch. The whole class had gone, a field trip for the last day of school. It had been great, the cool spray hitting her face on a boiling day, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she stood. Until a huge wave had hit the boat. "One of my friends was so fortunate as to capture one specific memory in the form of a photo." He smiled, and Clary felt as though she was watching any possibility of just forgettingthat incident being sucked through his cold smile. "If you want, I can show you."

She was losing patience, quickly. Her mom was probably waiting outside, tapping the steering wheel impatiently and making mental notes for her latest lecture on being late. She could practically hear the bus brakes screeching after Jocelyn refused to pick her up anymore. "What do you _want_, Sebastian?"

"Just a favor, in return for withholding the photo."

The photo couldn't be that bad. The favor was going to be infinitely worse.

"Nope." She said, popping the _p. _She turned away and started to head down the empty corridor. A strong hand caught at her arm in a bruising grip. "_Ouch._" She glared at him before a bright screen caught her attention.

After the wave had hit the boat, she lost her balance, and fell straight onto Sebastian.

Or, more precisely, with her face in between his legs.

Clary grimaced at the thought. She'd scrambled backwards, cursing and blushing. She hadn't even noticed a phone out.

It looked atrocious. Considerably worse than _any_ favor Sebastian could have come up with.

On her knees, her face… down there. She shuddered, trying to push down the rising fury. It made her look like a slut. Her eyes and throat burning, she looked at Sebastian. "_What do you want?" _

He cut to the chase. "Break Jace Herondale's heart. Go out with him, then break up with him, I don't care how you do it. But it has to end with him shattered." Leaning closer, he whispered into her ear. "And if it doesn't happen, that photo gets friendly with Facebook." She stared at him in shock as he drew away from her, strolling down the hall. His voice taunting as he called back, "I'll see you tomorrow, Clary. Let me know what you think."

**What _does _Clary think? Opinions! Theories!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! I'm so grateful for all of he positive feedback on the last chapter. This one's quite a bit shorter, but necessary. Also, my school goes back tomorrow, so updates might be a little random.**

**Thank you to all the reviewers, followers and favoriters!**

**Mollytamale: You're right, he is _not_!**

**emmacarstairsx: Thanks, here it is :)**

**FluffyFluffLover (Guest): I really admire your view on the whole drama. You'll see Clary's reaction, but I think it's pretty disappointing after that review. You made me want to rewrite the whole chapter so that she _would _do that, but unfortunately, it wouldn't be much of a story. I'm actually considering doing another version where she says NO now.**

** from Ravenclaw: Thanks! I know I didn't deliver on the 'very soon' part, but hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter.**

**Lilyherondale (Guest): I'm honoured to be your first review! And there were no mistakes :). Thank you so much! I'm really excited for you guys to see Clary as the heartbreaker too!**

**Guest: I do, too.**

A long-fingered hand grasped her arm firmly and pulled her out of the flow of students and into a small alcove with a drinking fountain. Clary let out a small cry of surprise as she tripped over her own feet, hastily righting herself and ready to let loose on this idiot. She drew in a deep breath in preparation for an angry rant.

As she looked up, the words died in her throat.

Only to refresh more savagely than before. The idiot in her mind was… well, some faceless person who deserved a piece of her mind. But Sebastian deserved more than that. Clary scowled. While she wasn't popular, she didn't get bullied. Staying mostly invisible, only to be noticed when she was with Isabelle was fine by her. If he released that photo, she'd have to deal with torment from the school bitches along with jeering from the guys. What little _good_ reputation she had would swirl down the drain, taking with it any chance of a peaceful school life before she could get out of this place. If she didn't have to endure that, why would she go willingly put herself there? Jace would be fine. He went through girls like she went through art supplies- there was never enough. She seriously doubted she would be able to break his heart, let alone get close to him. To say nothing of her non-existent acting skills.

Clary took in another breath, trying to gain some coherency. Her rant wouldn't hold nearly as much affect if he couldn't even understand what she was saying.

"Well, what do you think of my _offer_?" Sebastian lingered over the last word. They both knew it wasn't really an offer. If she disagreed, he'd find another way or some other girl.

Maybe she could report him. The school couldn't condone this petty revenge.

"You wouldn't dare to turn me over." His eyes rolled lazily. "That's what backups are for, aren't they?"

Clary swallowed. He'd get the picture up before the school could do anything about it, and everyone would get the wrong idea. No matter if she told people it wasn't what it looked like. In the end, what was it really? Her word against Sebastian's.

"Why do you even want to hurt him like that?"

"I think I can keep that to myself."

"Just tell me why your intentions are so− so awful!"

Sebastian smirked. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions, so is the road to heaven paved with bad intentions? Because my bad intentions might just lead to my personal slice of heaven."

Gosh, this was frustrating. "No, dumbass. That saying means that hell is full of good _meanings_, but heaven is full of good _works_. Of which this is neither."

She leaned against the wall behind her, letting her head fall back as she tried to calm the brewing headache. Grounding the balls of her palms into her eyes and feeling the satisfaction of the slight pain, she groaned.

"Fine."

Clary didn't open her eyes until she was sure he was gone. The ebb and flow of conversation dimmed as the bell pierced into her brain, leaving nothing but anger and hurt.

Not that there had been much of anything else before. But now the deal was sealed.

How on earth was she going to break Jace Herondale's heart?

* * *

><p>"Simon, you have to help me." Clary sat heavily on one of the benches at their regular table. He didn't even glance up from his latest comic, just murmured, "Okay, Isabelle."<p>

"Do I look like Isabelle to you? Oh, wait, that's right. People mistake us for _twins_. We have the same hair, same eyes, we're even the same-"

Now Simon glanced up. "Sorry, Fray." He grinned. "Feeling dramatic today?"

"I have reason to be. I got cornered by Sebastian yesterday in the hall."

He winced. "Ouch. What did he want?"

Clary slumped onto the table, pressing her forehead into the cold metal and trying to avoid inhaling the disgusting smell of fried food and old bread. "Something impossible." She could practically hear Simon rolling his eyes.

"It must have been bad. Usually you leave all the melodrama to Izzy." Clary laughed slightly, sitting up and pulling off her backpack. She lowered her voice. "He wanted me to, and I quote, 'break Jace Herondale's heart.'"

She watched as his eyebrows practically rose to his hairline. "And why would you even consider doing that?"

She shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat. "Because he has, ah, what you might call a compromising image of me." His eyes went wide with understanding. "The water-rafting trip."

"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner."

He glanced across the cafeteria at the golden boy in question. Currently, his friends and a few girls surrounded him. They practically reeked of desperate, with faces caked in so much makeup Clary was surprised they could blink. And the guys- they were practically shouting, all trying to one up each other. Snatches of conversation spun their way. "That chick, man I…" "Completely thrashed them…" "-not my fault he decided to…"

Simon made a noise of disgust. "You're supposed to get in with them?"

Clary didn't answer. She was too focused on the girl next to Jace. He had his arm around her, ready to pull her close. But Clary noticed the distance between them, the tense muscles in his shoulders. _Stop checking him out and actually find out something useful. _She chided herself. At that very moment, he glanced up, effectively trapping her with his eyes as easily as he'd done the day before _…_ _five points of warmth against her skin. _He mouthed something indecipherable to her, his eyes laughing as he raised an eyebrow. She just shook her head and turned back to her lunch.

"What was that, Fray?" Simon asked, his voice curious.

She took a bite of her apple to try and disguise her burning cheeks. She could probably boil water on them. "Nothing."

"Oh, so what he mouthed to you was nothing?"

"I suck at reading lips, Lewis, you know that. I don't know what it was." Interest got the better of her, though. "What did he say?"

A grin lit Simon's features. "The answer comes with a price."

She groaned. "What now?"

"Well, since you asked… the next copy of Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Done. What did he say?"

He rolled an orange from hand to hand, wasting time. Finally, he got to it, imitating Jace's sarcastic drawl. "You can't deny the love, Fray."

**Can Clary deny the love!? Please tell me what you thought!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone, back again! My internet was down, so I haven't been able to put this up until now. Please don't hate me!**

**I'll reply to the reviews that I received for this chapter in the next chapter because I have to get off the internet :(**

**Enjoy!**

Clary dumped her bag on the counter in the kitchen and yelled out. "Hello? Anybody home?"

Jonathan appeared through a doorway. "Just me. How was school?" He asked sarcastically.

Clary hesitated. He circulated in the same groups as Jace. In the same year at school, they got along fine, and Jonathan could be her ticket to success. "It was fine. Do you know if Jace has ever had a serious girlfriend?" Jonathan snorted. "You may as well ask if mom would ever let you drop out of school. Of course not." Then he registered the question, squinting suspiciously at Clary. "Why? Don't tell me you've got a crush on Jace."

"I don't!" Clary said, a bit too quickly. "I was, uh, just talking to Izzy about it today." He hadn't lost the suspicious look. She huffed and walked to the fridge. "Like I would ever have a crush on Jace Herondale."

"Well, if you're sure."

"Of course I'm sure." She wondered if rolling her eyes would make that more convincing or less. Jonathan saved her the choice. "I'm going to my room. Call me if anything interesting happens."

Clary sagged in relief once she heard the bang of his door.

That was way too close. If Jonathan found out what she was doing, it wouldn't be pretty. And she just wanted her big brother to stay out of her business for once. She could handle it.

Easily.

"Hey Jace, want to get some coffee?"

Clary glowered at herself in the mirror. Her sleepless night showed in her tired green eyes and the dark circles underneath them. Her hair was messier than usual, static pieces flying everywhere.

"Hey, what are you doing this Saturday?"

Oh, god.

"What's going on with you?"

She blew out air and puffed up her cheeks so they looked as ridiculous as she felt. There was no way Jace would agree to go out with her. She may as well tell Sebastian to put up that photo now and save her all the embarrassment.

She feigned the confidence that Jace threw off and Isabelle radiated. On her, it looked ridiculous, as though she'd borrowed a pair of Isabelle's shorts. It didn't fit right.

"Clary, if you want a ride, you're going to have to hurry up!" Jonathan hollered from the kitchen.

"I'll be out in a minute." She shouted back. Taking a quick look at her clothes- jeans, a green top, and a sweater- she hoisted her backpack up onto her shoulder, she slammed her door behind her. "Bye mom, bye Luke!" She turned to Jonathan. "Let's go."

They traipsed down to the car in silence, strapping themselves in and setting off.

"So," Jonathan broke the silence. "I've kind of been wondering. Why didn't Isabelle already know if Jace has had a serious girlfriend?"

He couldn't suspect anything. He couldn't. "Ah, she… thought she might not know?" He nodded. Clary relaxed into the seat and watched the passing landscape again. It was a rainy morning, the lights blurring together in one long streak.

"Was Isabelle asking about me?" Jonathan startled her with his sudden question.

_This _is what he wanted to know. Clary laughed in relief. "Jonathan, I hate to break it to you, but she and Simon are pretty enamored with each other. I once caught them just breathing at each other."

He disguised his obvious disappointment with a laugh. "What, not looking into each other eyes? Not exchanging longing glances?"

"I never knew you were such a romantic, Jon. They were breathing at each other."

He said it under his breath, and she just caught it. "Whatever you say, Clary. Whatever you say."

* * *

><p>Another boring English class, another doodle of the kid in front of her. But this time she was hyper-aware of Jace sitting behind her. Curse the teacher and his freaking seating plan. She didn't that they had time-travelled back to fourth grade.<p>

"Does anyone want to consider what the blue curtains mean?"

_They're blue curtains. They symbolize… blue curtains. _She normally loved English- she was in the advanced class- but this year she'd gotten a really bad teacher. Talking about the use of this capital letter and that full stop was not her idea of a good time.

Maybe she could give this guy some cat ears or something.

She'd just started outlining the fur when the teacher called, "Dismissed."

A shadow fell over her desk and out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of gold. "Nice drawing." Jace said, leaning over her for a closer look. "Are those cat ears?" He stifled a laugh. She tried to force herself to ignore his smell of something minty and what she could only describe sunshine. "What can I say? I was bored." She shrugged, accidently hitting his chin. He pulled back, rubbing it resentfully.

"I'm wounded, Clary. Maybe you'll have to take care of me."

"Ugh, stop being so cheesy." Isabelle ordered, appearing at Clary's side. "We've got a party to plan." She dutifully put her books away and trudged to the quadrangle, fielding Isabelle's questions the whole way. "Clary, you look like you're about to pass out. Go get a drink and meet me there." She tried to argue weakly, but gave up after about approximately two seconds. When Isabelle set her mind to something, it was done.

Clary turned the corner and ran promptly into someone. Classy. "I'm really sorry. I should watch where I'm going." She moved to step around the girl but she blocked her. She squinted at her, confused. "Do we know each other?"

"I'm Lily." The other girl twirled some blue hair around her finger, and despite the girly motion, Clary saw the sharp intelligence on her face. "You're not moving quickly enough with Jace."

She gaped at her. "Sebastian sent you."

Lily ignored her, dropping the girly act. "You now have a time limit. Two weeks." The message delivered, she spun and stalked away.

Clary leant against the locker next to her, flinching the cold metal bit against her bare skin. Fabulous.

Her phone dinged with a message. Isabelle. _Hey, lunch is nearly over. Meet you at your locker after school. Don't forget, you're coming over at 8 tomorrow night!_

**_What did you think?!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Not so happy with this chapter, but the next is good, I promise! Like I said, I'll reply to the previous chapters reviews here:**

**Guest: Here it is!**

**xQueezlex: Thank you! I think a lot of people are looking forward to it, too. And that line was definitely Amy inspired. **

** : I completely agree! Thanks again!**

**FluffyFluffLover (Guest): No, I think you're right. I don't know if I've said this, but I actually want to write a whole new fic where she _does _make the right choice, just because of your review!**

**Chapter 3 review replies:**

**xQueezlex: Thank you again! Here's the update!**

** from Ravenclaw: I love the names you come up with for Sebastian; they entertain me to no end. Thanks!**

** : Thanks! Hope you like it.**

**lucyhalemass: Here it is!**

Clary opened the door to her room, only to find Jonathan standing in the hallway, hand poised to knock. "Hey, I was just about to ask if you wanted a lift."

She squinted suspiciously at him. "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"

He raised his hands. "Hey, if you want to catch a subway all the way into the city in cold weather, be my guest."

"I never said I didn't want it." Clary shoved past him to get into the hallway herself, closing her door behind her.

Her brother looked at her outfit. "Is that what you're wearing?"

She nodded distrustfully.

"Good."

If her brother thought it was 'good', she surely wasn't going to have the guys pounding down her door. But next to Isabelle, it wouldn't matter if she were naked.

* * *

><p>Clary had stopped pressing the doorbell somewhere around ninth grade. It took ages for someone to answer the door, and when Isabelle knew she was coming over, she usually just left it unlocked. She'd shared the electronic code for the gate, too, after making Clary swear three times on her on her Prismacolor she wouldn't tell anyone. She eased into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind her and letting the warm air melt her nose from the icicle the icy winds outside had frozen it into. Taking off her coat and hanging it over her arm, she crossed the foyer. Isabelle's house never failed to amaze her. It was an old converted church, complete with its own greenhouse and library. Isabelle and her older brother Alec never went up there- they both had allergies, but Clary had spent a fair amount of time sketching up there.<p>

She pressed the button for the elevator and the telltale clatter reached her ears, echoing in the silent marble foyer.

As she latched the door behind her with a clang, she hoped to Rembrandt that Jace would be out today. She couldn't face him after what had happened.

_It's not worth it. _A voice whispered in the back of her mind. _Why would you do that to someone over a photo? Who cares what everyone thinks? _

Clary started fiddling with her bag straps, just to give her hands something to do. She liked to think that she didn't care what other people thought, but… it was hard not to. Still, she couldn't push away the thought that she should just tell Sebastian to stuff off.

After unlatching the door, she practically bolted to Isabelle's room, not even watching for anyone in the hallway. A second after she burst in, Isabelle glanced up. "Is someone chasing you, or something?"

Clary dumped her bag on the floor, shaking her head. "What if someone was? What would you do?"

She grinned, returning to her magazine. "Use my superior combat skills to beat the crap out of them, of course." She read a few more lines, and then snapped it shut, taking in Clary's clothes. "I knew this would happen."

She moved defensively, as if trying to hide from Isabelle. "What's wrong with them this time?" She demanded. She'd thought the annoying denim skirt would be enough to satisfy her fashion-conscious friend, but apparently not. The aforementioned friend had already leapt up to her wardrobe and was sorting through her smallest clothes. Since Clary wouldn't let her go shopping, this was the closest she got to playing Barbie doll with her.

"Try these on." Isabelle commanded, throwing some shiny pieces at her. "Then show me."

She sighed and stalked into the bathroom. Although she loved the way it _looked_, being Izzy's canvas was less than fun.

Shimmying into the scraps of material, Clary regarded herself in the mirror. Better than last time, but still uncomfortably revealing. She shuffled out of the bathroom. Izzy had changed at the same time, slipping into a strapless red top and a maxi skirt that flowed around her like a dark waterfall. She looked effortlessly striking, as always. "How come you get to wear something long?" Clary complained.

"Because if I put it on you, your legs would look shorter than usual, Stumpy. Chair." She pointed at the stool in front of her dresser, crowded with more shimmering glitters and tubes than Clary could name.

"That's right, Izzy, that _is _a chair." If Clary weren't so short she would have reached up and patted her head for effect.

A scowl marred her pretty face. "Sit, or else."

Clary gave a tiny groan and flopped down on the chair.

The torture was about to begin.

* * *

><p>The sounds of the party reached their spindly limbs through the closed door, muffled but raucous. Clary slid down onto the cool floor by the sofa, mentally designing an artwork for the space across her. Something with muted colours, maybe. Or they could be as loud as the pulsing music pouring from the hidden speakers outside.<p>

Loud colours, she decided. It would liven up the room with some much-needed attitude.

She kicked her shoes off. The heels on the boots were chunky, making it possible for Clary to _walk_… but they were still heels, making her feet sore. She'd argued that wearing her Skechers was edgy, but her arguments fell on deaf ears.

The door creaked and a wedge of light fell across Clary's face. As the door shut again, her night vision was gone and she waited impatiently for her eyes to readjust as she moved as quietly as she could out of sight. Her mind was going crazy with possibilities.

Clary forced herself to calm down. Maybe they just wanted some peace and quiet, too.

She peered out from behind the couch, feeling ridiculous. Catching a flash of gold, she pulled her head back in, panicking.

Jace.

The owner of the heart she was meant to destroy, Izzy's brother… and the boy she _knew _had feelings under the impenetrable façade.

She'd seen it for herself; the real Jace was more vulnerable than she ever would have imagined.

Clary sat back, breathing as deeply as she could to avoid thinking about the incident so many years ago.

"Clary?"

Her eyes flashed open, only to immediately squeeze them shut again. He had _not _found her sitting around the back of the couch like some creepy stalker.

"You know, the whole _if I can't see you, you can't see me _thing was disproved in about grade two." He sounded slightly entertained. "You may as well open your eyes."

Reluctantly, Clary peeled her eyelids open and got off the floor so Jace wasn't towering over her. Well, he was still towering over her, but not as much. "What are you doing in here?" She demanded.

The entertained look changed slightly, until she couldn't tell what his expression was anymore. "What, in my own living room?"

She didn't answer. The clouds had shifted, allowing moonlight to filter through the hazy curtains. His face was shadows and pale flashes of metallic colour, almost as if the soft light had consumed the shades of his face.

"What are _you _doing in here?"

Clary rolled her eyes and turned away, perching on the back of the lounge and looking at the blank wall. "I think you know the answer to that."

"Trying to get away?" He came and sat on the opposite end. She tried not to read too much into it, but she couldn't help but wonder-

"You draw, right?"

A flicker of shock flared in her chest. "Um, yeah. Why?"

He turned his gaze on her, unforgiving and somehow elusive. "Robert and Maryse are looking for a new piece for this room. They can't find someone with the right stuff."

"Are you…?" Clary trailed off, unsure of what she was trying to ask.

His voice softened almost imperceptibly. "If you want it, I can tell them about you." He dropped his voice so low Clary couldn't hear what he said next. "Not… don't already…"

"What was that?" She hesitated for a moment before adding, "And thanks. It means a lot."

Jace stood abruptly, walking towards the door without his normal fluidity, the only sign that something had unnerved him. But she had no idea what it could be. "I'll get Iz to fill you in."

The door to the living room slammed shut, cutting off her response.

**What's wrong with Jace? Anyone who guesses can have a shout out at the top of the next chapter. There are two things, but if you get one, the shout out is still yours!**


	5. Chapter 5

**There were _two _reasons Jace was being weird in the last chapter. Awesome job OneLoneStar, you got one! Go check them out!**

**Yeahbutno: Not quite, but close!**

**OneLoneStar: Thanks! And good job for guessing!**

**danika1328: Thanks, here's the update**

**FluffyFluffLover: I'll make sure to get to writing that soon. I think it will only be a few chapters long, but definitely worth it!**

**Thanks everyone! **

Clary threw Simon his new copy of Fullmetal Alchemist, ignoring his grin. "I didn't think you'd deliver, Fray."

Sighing and preparing herself for another tortuous lunch, she retorted, "I wasn't going to." But she'd needed a distraction. Jace's strange reaction had played on her mind all weekend. A crowd of jostling cheerleaders and jocks caught her eye and she tried to catch a flash of gold in the frenzy.

Instead, she caught the eye of a bitchy cheerleader whose name she didn't know. The girl shot her a cold stare and turned pointedly away.

Clary sighed. Usually, these people just ignored her, but apparently they took pleasure in being unpleasant to anyone.

"You're quiet today." Simon nudged her side. "What's up?"

"The sky." Clary deadpanned.

He snorted. "Your wit never ceases to amaze me, but really."

Before she could say anything, Isabelle swung a leg over the opposite bench and sat down. "What are we talking about?" She wanted to know.

Simon turned a faint pink and pushed his glasses up his nose, spluttering. Clary had to smile. He was so nerdy, and so obviously head over heels for Isabelle. "Uh- we- Clary's crush on Jace." He said triumphantly.

She swung around to face him. "My _what_?" Her voice was at least an octave higher than usual.

"Oh, that. I knew about that ages ago." Isabelle waved a hand carelessly. "She just won't admit it."

It was Simon's jaw that dropped this time. "You have a _crush _on _Jace_?"

_"__No!"_

"But Simon, I thought you knew."

"I can't believe my best friend has a crush on Jace Herondale."

"I _don't_."

"You said that's what you were talking about!"

"Enough!" Clary yelled. "That is _not_ what we were talking about, Izzy. And Simon, I do _not _have a crush on Jace."

It was only then that she noticed the cafeteria was much quieter than usual. There were people with better things to do than listen to a tiny redhead yell about supposed crushes and conversations, but majority of the school was hungrier for gossip than they were for the disgusting meal of the day.

Clary stood up and shouldered her bag as Isabelle whispered to Simon, "We should set them up."

She stormed out of the room, just catching the expression on Jace's face as she left. It was, as usual, inscrutable as a marble statue.

* * *

><p>Clary rubbed the spot just below her hairline, trying to ward off a threatening headache and leaning against the nearby wall. Around the corner, she could hear whispering voices. Probably some idiots with a supposedly huge secret.<p>

She just wanted to sink onto the floor and give herself a break. The whole day had been a flop after the _incident_. Everywhere she went, the bitchy cheerleader seemed to pop up, whispering to her friends and smiling coldly at Clary.

When she'd finally had enough, she stalked up to her in class, ready to give the girl a piece of her mind. "You know what, I don't really give a flying-"

"Clary," the teacher had called "I'd like to see you after class."

There went that plan.

Her teacher didn't want anything more than to remind her of her makeup exam next week, but he had kept her long enough that the hallways were deserted, aside from the whispering couple around the corner.

"Simon, I _think_ they would notice that." The girl's voice had risen above a whisper, reprimanding her 'Simon'.

Clary laughed, catching on. It was Izzy and Simon, planning something or other. She peered around the corner in an attempt to be discreet.

It didn't matter. She probably could have brought a herd of stampeding elephants through the halls and they wouldn't have noticed, they were so wrapped up in each other. Simon wore an expression of warm exasperation, and Izzy, her planning face- although there was more than hint of amusement.

A chorus of yells and laughter sounded somewhere in the distance. _Speaking of stampeding elephants, _Clary thought, still watching Simon and Isabelle. The group of boys drew closer, their ruckus getting brassier with their proximity.

Before they could catch her peering around the corner like a little kid, she straightened and grabbed her bag. She'd already dealt with her fair share of jeering that day. The small crowd had rounded the curve and was traipsing towards her. Among them were Jonathan and Jace, easily making double the noise that she'd ever heard coming from their mouths. _Please don't catch sight of me, please don't catch sight of me, please-_ "Clary?"

Great.

"What are you still doing here?" Jace asked, his liquid gold eyes focusing slightly to the left of her face. She narrowed her eyes and stepped into his line of vision, hushing him. "I'm spying on them," She jerked her chin towards Isabelle and Simon. Jace's eyebrow quirked. "Rat boy and my sister?"

"Hey." Clary objected.

"Look at him. He could drop to the floor and sprout fur and a tail and I can't say I would be particularly surprised." His words were easy, but his voice held a cord of strain.

She snorted, trying to shake of the tension, but it clung on like a stubborn barnacle. "I'm sure." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. She thought about saying something, trying to clear the air, but something stopped her. _He _was the one being strange, not her. If he was in a mood, nothing would drag him out of it.

"What's wrong?" Clary asked, her eyes searching his face.

Those unusual golden eyes held her focus. They were the only place she could see what he was really thinking, and even then, it was a challenge.

Jace lifted his hand, stopping only when it was hovering millimeters away from her cheek. Unable to judge what was going on, her eyes hadn't left his. Her voice barely above a whisper, she asked again. "What's wrong, Jace?"

He ignored her question at first, dropping his hand. Then, after a few seconds, "You should know."

"I should know what's wrong?"

"Yes, that _is_ what I just said." The side of his mouth kicked up into a smirk. "They were right to let you graduate from kindergarten after all."

She shook her head. "Stop it."

The smirk widened slightly, going from annoying to infuriating in an mere second. "Stop what?"

Too frustrated to answer, she spun in place, ready to stalk off.

Jace spoke from behind her, his voice mocking. "Perfect dramatic exit. Have you been taking acting lessons?"

Clary watched her brother finally spot them and his eyes narrow. "Hey, Herondale. Coming?"

Jace shook his head, walking off without another word. Jonathan looked at her, the question '_What did you say?_' written clearly across his face. She shrugged, mystified.

"Clary! Come on, we'll give you a lift home." Isabelle had appeared at her shoulder, closely followed by Simon. Her bad mood evaporated.

"It's okay, Jon's taking me home. Right, Jonathan?" She gave him a threatening glare.

"Anything for my dear sister." He replied easily, grinning.

Clary had to smile, turning to Isabelle and Simon. "I'll see you tomorrow."

They trekked out to the car, an easy silence resting between them. She pulled her diary out on the way, checking what homework she had for that night.

She skimmed down the page with her finger… _25__th__, 26__th__, 27__th_.

Clary dropped the book into her bag, slamming the car door and letting her head sink into her hands. The 27th of March.

No wonder Jace had been acting strangely.

It was the day his parents died.

**Poor Jace. What will Clary do now that she knows?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Prepare yourself for a pretty heavy chapter. It gets lighter soon!**

**Thanks to all the reviewers, followers and favoriters!**

**itsHerondale: Poor Jace indeed.**

**FluffyFluffLover: It rhymed hilariously! And here's your update.**

** : Thanks!**

**OneLoneStar: You'll find that out in the next chapter :). Thank you! **

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Clary had locked herself in her room, turning her music up as loudly as it would go. She was working on a new artwork, trying to ignore the thoughts that kept soaring across her mind like eagles hunting for prey. Stupid, forgetful Clary. Scatter-brained as she was, she couldn't believe she'd skimmed over one of the most important days in her year.

Clary shaded a section darker than it needed to be, her pencil forcefully scoring the paper. Of course her school art project would be a lion: the animal that reminded her most of Jace.

As if she needed any more reminders to bring him to the front of her mind.

The lion's mouth took shape, a lazy yawn turning into a fierce roar and a flicking tail into a tightly coiled rope. It looked ready to ready to pounce on a diminutive red and green bird in the corner of the page. Clary sketched its eyes in, intelligent but impenetrable.

A hand fell on her shoulder, making her jump. Pulling her earphones off, she turned angrily to Jonathan. "What was that for?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking past her and at her drawing. "Let me guess. The bird is you and the lion is Jace."

Clary's cheeks burned. "If you didn't come in here to do anything more than mock me, then get out."

He sat beside her on her desk chair, shoving her over a little so he could fit. He picked up her pencil and roughly sketched something she couldn't see. Trying to lean forward to see it, she fell off the chair with a curse.

Jonathan laughed. "I wish I had a camera. That face is something special."

"This is all your fault. You're too fat to share a chair with." She gave him a look, but his green eyes shone with mirth. He wasn't, and unfortunately, he knew it.

She tried to scowl at him but failed. Trying to disguise it by getting up and dusting herself off, she bumped Jonathan's shoulder roughly with her own, attempting to sneak a peek at his addition to her drawing. "Let me see."

"No." Before she could object, he raised a hand. "I came to tell you that Mum and Luke are out tonight. Want to go bowling?"

She snorted. "Bowling? Forget it."

Jonathan just gave her a mocking grin and said, "Can't handle being beaten?"

She sighed, pulling on some shoes. He knew she couldn't resist a challenge.

* * *

><p>"Strike!" Clary yelled, doing a victory dance. Throwing herself into the game was a good way to forget. Jonathan's face was set in grim determination as he picked up the next ball and swung his arm back. The ball rolled smoothly, ever so slightly veering to the left. It hit the pins with a clatter, knocking down all except one.<p>

Clary resumed a version of her victory dance. "Let's go, Cla-ry, let's go!" She chanted. "Let's go, Cla-ry, let's go!"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I'm coming for you," he shouted over her chanting. "You won't know when, but I'm going to do it."

Clary patted him on the shoulder, stopping her song. "Sure you are, Jon."

The heavy balls kept plunging into the darkness, knocking down pins left and right. They both kept up with each other, although Clary liked to think she was better and frequently said so. The alley wasn't very crowded. There weren't many people up for bowling on a Monday night. Groups were scattered sparsely around, melting into the half shadows. Clary let herself sink into the familiarity of amicable competition with her brother, forgetting the confusing feeling that hung around her life lately. It was like five different artists had taken to the same canvas, each trying to paint their own story, perplexing Clary to no end.

Strike, spares and cranks later, she sat, her hands feeling as though they should be curled around a heavy bowling ball. Jonathan flopped next to her, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Good game." He offered his hand to shake.

Instead, she slapped it to the side. "Good game. We've gotten worse, though."

"Good thing Luke wasn't here to cream us." Jonathan agreed.

He tugged her up, pulling her to the exit. "Come on, I'm hungry." He complained.

"Yeah, yeah. God forbid you go more than an hour without food."

* * *

><p>Unable to eat more than a slice of pizza, Clary went to her room. She knew she should be hungry. They'd splashed out and bought it from one of the top quality Italian restaurants. Jonathan had shrugged, declaring that it meant more for him.<p>

She sat at her desk, picking up her drawing. Jonathan had added a panther, messily scrawled with an arrow and his name. Growling at the lion, it looked like; he had set himself in between Jace and Clary.

He'd rubbed the lion's mouth out, replacing it with a smirk. He'd changed the eyes so that they were no longer unforgiving and uncoiled the tail.

"I'll protect you from anyone. But… he really isn't that bad, you know."

Clary didn't turn. "I know."

"Right." Jonathan coughed. "All I'm saying is don't hold his actions against him."

"I'm trying not to." Clary whispered, wanting to tell Jonathan what she was really worried about. "It's his parent's anniversary. The day they…" She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat.

Jonathan was at her side in an instant. "I forgot. I'm so sorry."

She gave a choked laugh. "It doesn't matter. They weren't my parents."

Jonathan didn't say anything, but his silence said more than any words he might have used. He was hurting for her, with her.

"You should call Jace. You're the only one who understands." Jonathan offered. She shook her head. He rubbed her back after a few seconds and set her phone next to her, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Clary got ready for bed and tucked herself under her covers, but nothing could ward off the inevitable memories, ruthless eagles that they were.

_Screaming, screeching. _It was hazy, unreal.

_Wearing all black, they'd broken into the house, their heavy boots splintering the shattered glass. Pulling a dagger from his pocket, the dark-haired man stepped forward. He sneered._

_The man plunged the dagger into Stephen's chest and out again, too easily. With a gasp, he collapsed to the floor. She rushed into the room as soon as they had left._

_Clary had never seen so much blood. "Stephen!" She lisped and sobbed, her hands slipping over his chest, slick with blood. Just four years old, she'd been over to play with Jace when they came._

_Tears rolled down her face, splashing onto his already soaking shirt. _

_A small sound of surprise echoed from the doorway. Jace stood there, his face white with horror. His eyes took in everything._

_"__Jace-" Clary hiccupped. "You need to get your mom."_

_He nodded robotically and turned to get her. Clary couldn't stop looking at Stephen's face, paler than Jace's had been, his blue eyes staring up at the ceiling. His golden hair, so similar to his son's, was stained an ugly red. _

_A strangled scream sounded from the bedroom. Jace._

_She ran to the room, tiny feet slipping on the wooden floors. As soon she entered the door, she froze, just as he had. Their positions had been reversed. Jace, kneeling beside his mum, and Clary, standing, paralyzed. _

_She fled, running for the phone. Dialing the emergency number, she couldn't stop the ragged breaths tearing themselves out of her chest. _

_As she finished speaking, sirens sounded in the distance. She ran to Jace, meeting him halfway in the hall. They sunk to the ground, grasping each other's hands in bruising grips. _

_Clary had known him all her life, couldn't remember a time where he hadn't been her closest friend. She had barely seen him cry; yet here they both were, tears mingling on their hands, washing away the blood bit by bit. _

_Every time after that, whenever he saw her, he gave a massive shudder, unable to stop the pain spilling across his face. Eventually, the pain left, leaving only sadness. _

When he was ten, he'd moved away, adopted by the Lightwoods. They all came back when he was fifteen, but any trace of the Jace Clary knew gone.

She picked up the phone, finding his contact and pressing call, her heart thundering in her chest.

The ringing seeped into her mind, and soon it was enveloping her, the steady ring the same as when she'd called 911 twelve years ago.

"Hello?"

"Jace," Clary said, breathless. "It's me."

**What is Clary going to say to him? And how brutal, the way Jace's parents died. **

**On another point, would you guys like a chapter from Jace's point of view? Let me know and I'll decide which one, because there's a perfect one coming up soon. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello again! The long awaited conversation is here!**

**Thanks to all the reviewers, favoriters, and followers.**

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**Guest: Glad you think so! The conversation is below...**

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"How do you have my number?" Jace asked, sounding slightly perplexed.

Clary shook her head. She'd rung him up out of the blue, and he was going to ask _how she had his number. _"Isabelle gave it to me once when her phone was out of charge and she needed to ask for a lift home."

"Ah, right."

It seemed neither of them were going to say anything about why she'd really called, but she knew he had a fair idea of why.

"So, have you asked Maryse and Robert about me yet?" She winced, knowing how it sounded. "I mean, have you told them about my artworks and everything?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah. They're quite interested."

Clary saw her opening to ask him out, make good on her side of the deal with Sebastian. "Do you…" _want to grab a coffee after I come over? _

She couldn't do it. She felt sick. This was the day his parents died, and she was trying to use for her own selfish reasons.

She wouldn't do it.

"Do you want me to come over and show them some of my stuff?"

Jace agreed, asking her to wait so he could see when was good for Maryse and Robert. Clary lay on her bed, staring off into the distance. She let the phone fall from her ear onto the bedspread, letting her mind clear completely.

She lurched back into reality when she heard a tinny voice from the voice. She jerked the phone back up to her ear, only to Jace's half panicked "Clary?"

"I'm here," she said, clearing her throat. "Sorry, I drifted off."

He breathed a small sigh of relief. "Robert and Maryse are good for to come over tomorrow after school. You can probably get a ride home with Iz and I."

Clary wasn't sure if she was still breathing. The reality of a commission- a real, paying commission- had hit her square in the chest. Excitement and nerves mixed in the pit of her stomach, and she convinced herself that this was the perfect time to deal with Jace.

"Sure." Her voice didn't sound strangled, did it?

"Alright, see you tomorrow." He hung up, the beep echoing in her ear.

She tried not to focus on the significance of the day. Instead, designs for artworks swirled behind her eyelids until they all blurred together, and all that was left was a simple, black canvas.

But she didn't sleep. Sometimes, she would jolt awake out of a light doze, convinced she was four again and watching Stephen die. Guilt unfurled inside her, an ugly flower growing and growing in her chest. If only she'd done more, ran to the phone more quickly, _anything,_ Jace's parents might still be alive.

Light filled her room with sunrise. Everything was waking up, time was passing, and there were things she had to do; school beckoned, unfinished artworks… but Clary didn't move. Dimly aware of people moving in and out of her room, she caught snatches of conversation that floated away as soon as they appeared, dandelion seeds blown away by the wind.

It had never been this bad before. She'd never allowed herself to get swept up in the undertow of the past. Talking to Jace again as if their old friendship meant something had unlocked it all.

"_Clary."_ Someone was shaking her shoulders. Hard. Their fingers were holding her so tightly she could practically hear her flesh complaining. "Clary, look at me."

She blinked the haze away.

Then blinked again.

Once more.

Her voice croaked from disuse. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to come." He dragged a hand through his hair. "Your parents didn't know who else to call. And Izzy… she's distraught."

Izzy, distraught. It was incongruous, the idea so laughable that she almost didn't believe him. But the expression on his face convinced her otherwise. The mask, the façade, the very statue itself was gone. Jace was raw with emotion.

He had let go of her shoulders at one point, but he caught her hand in one quick motion. "Come on. We're going out."

She stumbled as he pulled her out of bed. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me where."

"You're coming, whether you like it or not."

Clary crossed her arms, pulling her hand from his. She was quickly remembering why she didn't like the new Jace. Pulling on a contemplative expression, she tapped her chin. "Hmm, I think… not."

She realized as a genuine grin flitted across his face what the purpose of his little game was. Drawing her out of the past, into the present. He still knew her, despite years slipping by them.

"I'll be back in five." He said, shutting the door behind him.

Clary pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve top. She winced, easing a brush through her tangled hair.

Exactly five minutes later, Jace pushed through the door. He looked good today, she noticed as if the day had no particular importance.

_Wait. _She thought. "How long… how much…"

He leaned against her cupboard, his posture still perfect. "From the night we spoke to this morning? Almost thirty-five hours."

He watched her guardedly, almost as if he was waiting for a reaction. She said nothing. Thirty-five hours. About a day and a half.

"Come on." He nodded towards the door. She followed without complaint, still a little shocked. No one had been able to get through to her for that long?

The back of Jace's car was filled with Clary's artworks.

"Jonathan." Jace clarified, obviously catching her surprised glance, but didn't explain further.

They drove in silence for about twenty minutes until Clary recognized the route and she made a small sound. He glanced at her but didn't say anything.

As they pulled up at the Lightwood's impressive gates, she wondered if Jace was getting her to talk to Robert and Maryse. Why else would he show up at his own front door with her and a dozen pieces?

Everything he was doing was making it harder and harder for Clary to think about using him, only to try and break his heart. She still didn't like him, but it was hard not to feel empathetic.

He'd never liked people feeling sorry for him, but he was going to have to learn to deal with it.

"What is it?" Jace asked, his tone skeptical.

She blinked. "What's what?"

He shook his head, eyes now focused on the road. "You're making that face."

Clary was starting to get annoyed. "_What _face?"

"The face where you think you're right. You just stuck your chin out and sat up straight in your seat."

She didn't say anything. He was right, but that didn't mean she wanted to admit it.

Jace broke the silence after a few moments. "Aren't you going to tell what you're right about?"

She pretended to ponder the question. "Nope."

"_Nope_?"

She quashed a smile.

* * *

><p>The meeting had gone brilliantly. Clary knew exactly what she wanted to do after Maryse had let her know she could have free reign. "Your other works are impeccable and you know our house better than anyone." She'd said.<p>

Clary had dragged Jace out to his car, demanded he give her the keys and set off. He hadn't protested, hadn't said anything, which was unusual, but she was going to make the best of it.

They pulled up at an old car park, the pavement split and cracked in places and roots showing underneath, as if the giant tress around them were taking over this ugly man made structure.

Clary pulled the keys out of the ignition and dropped them in her pocket, ignoring Jace's protest. She ignored the guilt snaking around her shoulders, making them heavy.

She had to make Jace fall in love with her, plain and simple. It was high time she got started.

"You want some coffee?" Clary asked, setting off towards her regular coffee shop in the park.

Jace jogged after her to catch up. "Do I have a choice?"

"No, not really." She grinned at him.

He looked exasperated. "Why ask?"

"Seemed like the polite thing to do." Clary shrugged. "So," she started, trying to sound natural. "Favorite place in the world."

Jace gave her a strange look but answered. "I'd have to say the front door of the sports rehabilitation center."

Clary wrinkled her brow, confused. "Why?"

He paused for a few moments, catching a falling leaf out of the air and toying with it. She let the unusual sun cut through the bite of the cool air, warming her face.

"Because you see people alive there. You watch them light up because they've conquered whatever injury had put them out of action. Sometimes you even get to watch people who hadn't been able to walk… just walk away."

"You work there?" She asked, curious.

"I volunteer there." He corrected, sitting on a nearby bench, overlooking the fact that it was wet with dew.

She raised her eyebrows, impressed that he would do something that tough for other people without pay. Joining him on the bench, she started to speak. "That's really-"

Jace interrupted her. "What are you doing, Clary?" His words weren't harsh or abrupt, but they stung anyway.

She scrambled for a reply, hoping her face didn't betray anything. "I'm hanging out with you."

"Maybe I should have asked why, instead."

She looked down at the bench so he couldn't read anything in her eyes. "Maybe I missed you."

He exhaled lowly. "Maybe I missed you, too." His voice was quiet. She glanced up at him. His eyes weren't impenetrable; just looked like they had a thin layer of ice, waiting for someone to come along and just tap it, shattering the wall.

"Yeah?" She said, trying to sound pleased when the deceit was choking her.

"I said maybe." He smirked.

"Oh, shut up." She laughed in real humor.

They bought their coffee, Jace wrinkling his nose when she asked for black. "I don't know how you can drink that stuff."

She used her usual line for Simon on him. "It's black," She said dramatically. "Like my soul."

He'd laughed. "Well, my soul is an attractive golden colour, and I like my coffee to go with it."

Funny, she'd thought, how her soul might really be blackened after this heedless deal.

Sitting in the car, drinking their coffee, Jace repeated her question beck to her. "So," he said, his voice slightly teasing. "Favorite place in the world."

She didn't even have to think about it. "A carnival. Particularly…. particularly the one we went to."

Clary started the car after her last sip of coffee, tossing Jace the keys when they got to her place. "I would say thank you, but you didn't really do anything." Before she could back out of it, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek, his skin cool. "See you at school."

She jumped out of the car and hurried to her front door, unlocking it hastily. Her new favorite word; ignore. She'd ignored the fact that Jace hadn't started his car and left yet, she ignored the fact that butterflies were bashing into the walls of her stomach, and most of all, she ignored the burden weighing her down like a ton of bricks.

**Can Clary get over her guilt to follow through? Or will she call off the whole thing? And what's up with Jace? He doesn't seem to be hiding behind that mask anymore...**


End file.
